Over My Dead Body
by Inyri
Summary: What was Sara thinking as she watched Nick in the glass coffin? This is a short angst piece written in Sara Sidle's POV that takes place during Grave Danger. Part II and III now available: What happens when Sara visits Nick in the hospital?
1. Part I

Over My Dead Body

_Note: This was written on a very long commercial break after the CSIs first see Nick trapped in the coffin in "Grave Danger."_

_Sarah Sidle POV_

Click here to watch? Watch what?

Grissom's computer screen jumped to a live feed at the click of his mouse.

A live feed of Nick, trapped inside a glass coffin.

It was like a physical blow to the back of my knees. My legs threatened to crumble. Simultaneously my heart jumped in my chest.

Nick…Why Nick? Of all the people to be kidnapped, it had to be him.

Tears filled my eyes. I tried to contain them but when I glanced over at Catherine, I saw tears standing in her eyes as well. It was okay to cry.

It was strange, somehow, to see such open emotions in the lab. We saw about everything and most of it didn't even faze us. But this was different. This victim was Nick, a man we'd spent almost everyday with for years. A man we'd worked alongside with. A man who'd always been there for us…for me.

He was down-to-earth; someone who'd always give you a straight answer. Someone who could reason things out and come up with a realistic solution.

And in a little under two hours he was going to die from a lack of oxygen.

I watched as he pushed at the sides of his glass enclosure, desperate to escape. My heart broke at his suffering; his fear. I wished more than anything that I could get to him. I wished I could find him, dig up the coffin, and let him free.

Even if I could send him a message, assure him that we knew what he was facing, I'd feel as though I was helping.

He must feel so alone, I thought. So helpless.

A tear escaped my defenses and ran down my face; the rain of my soul released. I never would have expected this; never would have expected this situation or my reaction.

My sadness turned to determination. I would do everything humanly possible to save Nick. Then I'd track down the creep who put one of my best friends through pointless torture.

I swore I'd fulfill my goals. I wouldn't let Nick die.

Over my dead body.


	2. Part II

Over My Dead Body

Part II

_Author's Note: As you know, this was going to be (and now _is)_ a three-parter. Here's the infamous second part._

I nearly jogged down the halls of the bright hospital, thoughts running rampantly through my mind. Images from the past few hours floated to the surface from the depths of memory, pleading to be reviewed and analyzed. I knew that I had to save those for later. Now I had something more urgent to attend to.

For some reason, I knew this section of the hospital like…well, like the back of my hand. Why? Only morbid answers supplied themselves.

I saw the end of the hallway just ahead, a wall leading both to the left and the right. _Nick's around that corner,_ my brain reminded me.

I involuntarily slowed down slightly as I came to the corner. _This is it,_ I told myself in an attempt to prepare in some way. I took a deep breath and strode around the corner.

I saw Warrick and Catherine a few more feet down the hallway, peering grimly through a window into a hospital room. I tried to catch their other emotions but identification proved elusive.

I moved to stand beside them, my presence attaining a gaze and an unreadable expression from the two. I turned my attention to the window that lent sight into Nick's hospital room. My heart turned.

He was either sleeping or purposely unconscious; I couldn't tell. Tubes connected him to an IV and a machine beeped nearby. The sight of him connected to technology upset me for some reason.

He was pale and the red of the bug bites stood out from the white of his features. The thing that struck me the most was the fact that his expression wasn't peaceful.

I remembered once he had pulled a double shift and was stuck waiting for lab results. I had walked into his office to talk to him and found him sound asleep on his desk. I had been shocked by the angelic, almost boyish expression on his face. Now that expression was gone, replaced by one of anguish and pain.

"How is he?" I asked, my voice sounding old and unused.

"Physically, the doctors say that he's going to be okay," Catherine answered, her voice lacking all the emotion that usually fueled her words. She didn't say the next inevitable line. She didn't have to. My mind supplied it.

_Mentally, who knows if he'll be alright._ A shudder raced down my spine. What a scary thought.

Now that I pondered it, this was the idea that had been plaguing me all along. A projection presented itself in my mind. It showed a mentally and emotionally disturbed friend. A lost friend. I feared that the Nick that I knew and had grown to respect would be replaced by some psychopathic stranger.

"When is he waking up?" I inquired, for I yearned to know despite my fear of his possible mental transformation.

"Not for at least a few hours," a weary Warrick replied, never moving his eyes from Nick. I nodded slowly, my internal clock starting a countdown to the moment of revelation.

_Just a few more hours of waiting,_ I told myself. _I can make it that long._

I took one last look at the lifeless form of Nick before nodding a farewell to my colleagues. I had to get back to work. I had to consume myself with it until I could return. I had to push this all to the back of my mind for a while.

I felt like I couldn't absorb it all. I had to analyze it later. Now I had to work.

Turning from the scene, I stalked back down the hospital corridor. I was looking forward to the stack of paperwork that awaited me in my office.


	3. Part III

Over My Dead Body 

Part III

_Author's Note: I originally was going to leave the first part as a single, stand-alone piece. Then I was inspired to write more by **Catherine4** (Thanks!). I was thinking of making it a three-part piece with this as the last piece but I couldn't find it in me to write the second part. I still may; I'm not sure. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this part as much as the first._

There was a window in the door to Nick's hospital room. I peered through it to get a look at Nick before entering. I had found it easier to get over the initial shock of the person's condition while still in the hallway. Easier for them and easier for me.

Seeing nothing shocking, I pushed the door open and entered the room.

Walking softly toward his bed, I tried to distinguish if he was asleep. His face was turned away from me, looking out the window.

"Hey," I called softly. He turned his head to see me and a smile started to form on his face.

"Hey," he returned. I took that as a good sign. The fear of him falling into depression melted away.

I tried to analyze him to determine his state of mind. An experience like his could leave anyone mentally scarred for life. I didn't want to see my friend injured in any way; physically, mentally, or emotionally.

I gave him a smile and sat in the chair beside his bed.

"So..." I began, taking my time to ask the question that I had anxiously been waiting for the answer to. "How are you?" I tried to ask as gently as possible. I knew he'd been asked that question a lot lately. I didn't want a stock answer. I wanted him to be honest with me. I thought that we were good enough friends to be open with each other. I gave him a look to suggest my thoughts and encourage him to really mean what he was about to tell me.

More than anything, I wanted the truth. Only with the truth could I help him heal to the best of my ability. If he was suffering, I wanted to know. If he was okay, I wanted to know that too. Either way I wasn't afraid. I was more afraid of a lie than the truth because at least the truth could be dealt with.

"Not great," he finally admitted. "I still have some things to work through." I must have had a pained expression on my face because a look of concern dominated his features. He reached out and took my hand. I was surprised by his actions and the sincere look in his eyes shocked me further.

"I'm going to be okay," he assured me. "It's going to take some time but I'll be alright. Don't worry about me, okay?" I nodded my head. I was speechless. I knew I had just received exactly what I had wanted; an honest answer.

He squeezed my hand and repeated, "Okay?"

"Okay," I whispered. He smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back.

We stayed like that for a moment, each of us pondering what we had come so close to losing. The feeling of coming so close and yet finishing victorious was amazing. My brain still couldn't completely accept what had happened. My emotions had been running rampant throughout the entire ordeal and they were still overloaded. Eventually I'd be emotionally drained but that hadn't happened yet. I reveled in my joy; my happiness for the life of my friend.

"I brought something for you," I told him when the moment had passed. I handed him a wrapped gift, which he opened quickly.

"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." He read the title of the book I had given him aloud.

"Would you believe there was a time when they didn't use forensics to solve a mystery?" I asked playfully.

"Imagine that." We shared a chuckle and I added,

"It really is interesting."

"It's got to be better than the book Grissom gave me," he said, pointing to a book on the stand beside his bed. "Entomology for Dummies."

I laughed again. It was just like Grissom to give a book like that as a gift.

"I think he wanted to make sure that I got a lot of rest," Nick commented. "The minute I pick that book up, I fall asleep."

Speaking of sleeping, Nick looked utterly exhausted. Considering everything, he didn't look bad. His face was pale and covered with bites and his eyes were a little glassy but that was understandable.

Suddenly I realized that I didn't want to leave his side. A fear that something else would happen to him rose in me. I wanted to protect him, keep him safe from other wackos.

But our job was a dangerous one by nature. We had known that when we had begun our schooling. We were reminded when we were given the title of CSI. We knew the danger. We lived with it everyday.

I had to leave. Nick needed to be alone. To force him otherwise would be totally selfish.

"I've got to be going," I said. He nodded, understanding.

"I'll see you soon," he promised. "I'll be up and about again in no time." This time I nodded, smiling.

"See you around." I turned and left the hospital room, leaving Nick to his thoughts.

As I continued out of the hospital, I smiled to myself.

Nick was going to be alright.


End file.
